Passing Ships In The Night

Passing thro,' when will I see you again - who knows,
this was our time, daisy, daisy, daisy - so who goes,
remember that you hovered, wondering what it would
be like to caress or undress, so for you was it good?

How many times you came, to see me Norma Jean,
because she was just seventeen, you know what I mean;
I put the eye-drops in, my lips slipped down on to hers,
you don't know me, that moment, what was it that occurs.

A metamorphoses which lingered magic for what that is,
was enough to continue and prolong certain mysteries;
whether you wanted or not, it would always happen,
stand back, from when you were there, then listen.

I'm still there, in the old times of those heady days,
daisy, daisy, daisy, where are you now, there always.